The Perfect Christmas
by Cariad
Summary: A seasonal companion piece to 'The Perfect Easter Egg'.
1. Decorating Bones' pov

**Disclaimer** - Bones and all its lovely characters belong to someone else.

**A/N** - Well, 'tis the season etc etc, so I thought I'd write a companion piece to 'The Perfect Easter Egg' (a story I wrote earlier in the year.) It'll be the same format as last time with the story moving on from different points of view, but time's moved on in Booth and Bones relationship when we meet them again...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I'm stringing Christmas lights across the window in the front room that faces onto the street.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see an overexcited seven year old jumping up and down precariously close to a box of pretty, glass baubles. I'm about to call out a warning when his father appears, sweeping him up into his arms and swinging him round, making aeroplane noises.

I smile at the sight and then, with a final stretch, I manage to tack the last pin into the woodwork before climbing down off the step ladder to admire my handiwork.

A chain of twinkling lights curl around the window frame.

I can see my reflection in the glass and there's a whimsical smile on my lips.

I can also see him approach, Parker tucked under one arm and wriggling like mad. His free arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close as he plants a kiss in my hair, the bell on the end of his Santa hat flopping in front of my eyes with a jangle.

I turn in his arms and he sets his son down on his feet, telling him he can go look at the tree in the other room.

The blue-clad ball of energy streaks out the door exclaiming and I settle my arms around Booth's neck.

His grip on my waist tightens and he pulls me in for a kiss.

I can hear the tv start up in the next room and the now familiar sound of cartoons echo around.

Parker will be glued to the set until his mother comes to pick him about in an hour or so.

I realise that I've been leaning with my head slightly to one side, listening and I turn my attention back to the other man in my life.

Booth's eyes are soft, and he's giving me a look I don't recognise, but which sends the bottom of my stomach hurtling out and the slow, heart-stopping smile that spreads across his lips as he watches me with this strange intensity, sends tingles across my scalp.

He hesitates for a moment and then flashes that all-out charming grin, "Merry Christmas, Temperance."

I can't help but grin back, but I can't help wondering if he had wanted to say something else.

I don't have time to dwell on it, because he rubs his hands together and starts ushering me towards the other room.

I ignore the trail of sawdust he's tracked across the rug and manage to look appreciative as he shows me how he's clamped the huge tree in the stand. There's a pile of branches that he's sawed off sitting to one side, I eye them suspiciously, remembering Ange's threat to get me to make a wreath for the door. I think I may even have agreed in a moment of festive madness.

I can see Booth's eyes narrow in concern as he watches me stand in silence. My heart skips another beat - he's worried that I'm dwelling on the reasons why I've avoided all things festive for so long - even now, I can scarcely believe how much he cares. Or how much it means to me knowing that he does.

I squeeze his hand reassuringly and make admiring comments about the tree.

I can see his shoulders relax.

When Parker goes home, we're going to have to have a little chat or he'll be a nervous wreck by the time Christmas day rolls round.

To distract him, I lean down and pull out another set of lights and wave them vaguely at the tree.

He folds his arms and crinkles his brow slightly.

Evidently in the Booth household putting the lights on the tree is one of his tasks. I hand them over and start sorting through strings of beads.

I'm amazed at how much Christmas paraphernalia we've acquired in a few short weeks. I know Booth only had two small boxes of decorations, but I haven't been able to help a sudden magpie instinct to buy all these lovely shiny things and all these beautiful ornaments - and he's indulged me with a smile.

Hours later, the tree is decorated and is shimmering in the corner. The house is quiet with Parker gone. We sit wrapped in each other's arms on the couch, watching the flames play in the fireplace.

I can tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest that Booth is sleeping.

As my eyes close, I know that I've never been happier in my life.


	2. Mulled wine Ange's pov

**Disclaimer **– Bones and all its lovely characters belong to someone else.

A/N – more festive fluff… All feedback very gratefully received.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(Ange's pov)

As I stud the final orange slice with cloves, I wonder if this is quite what Booth had in mind when he banned eggnog at our festive get-together.

Although judging by the roll of crime scene tape he was juggling earlier I don't he's taking any chances. No-one is going back to the lab this evening. Or drilling holes in bones and setting off a contamination alarm.

I glance over at the guilty party from two years ago. He's watching the vat of mulled wine heat up with close attention. The felt antlers on his head pretty much spoil the effect.

I wander over and drop the oranges in the pan.

He gives me that approving, slight incline of the head before stirring everything in.

I wait.

He looks across at me and grins at my hat.

Best buy of the season – Christmas hat with a mistletoe embroidered on it. So I'm permanently standing under the mistletoe.

Not that Jack really needs the invitation these days.

He pulls me in for a kiss, which is interrupted by the sound of one of the other guests arriving.

I recognise Booth's amused chuckle – like he is in any position to comment!

He and Bren might try to be circumspect in work, but the Jeffersonian has a surprising number of secret – or not so secret – spots where you can get a bit of privacy.

He walks over to inspect the mulled wine.

What is it with guys any kind of alcohol cocktail? It's the same with barbeques. I'm sure Bren would have some anthropological explanation for it.

Speaking of my best friend, it's about time she made her appearance. I look over at Booth, who's peeling off his heavy winter coat to reveal the most hideous tie with snowmen on it.

He catches my eye and looks down at the tie with a rueful smile. Parker selected it, he explains, especially for Daddy's Christmas party.

I stifle a laugh. It's not really working with the Armani suit.

Parker's a pretty smart seven year old – I wonder if it was innocence or a nascent desire to embarrass his Dad that led to that selection.

I decide it's about time that I prised Bren from her office and brought her along to her first office Christmas party – and sure enough I have to wriggle round a barrier of bright yellow crime scene tape to get out of the conference room and into the lab.

As I head up the stairs I can't help think about how much has changed since that fateful lock in.

A few months later, an Easter egg led to that long awaited first date and Bren and our G-man haven't looked back.

And somewhere along the line Jack and I hooked up. It was allegedly _casual_ at first.

Yeah, right.

Like you can ever date someone you work with casually.

At least Bren didn't try to pretend that it was anything other that _the one_ after the first couple of dates.

I stand in her doorway, taking in the tinsel around her desk.

Yup, things have definitely come a long way.

She looks up after a moment and smiles apologetically as she sees my folded arms. She shuts down the computer and gathers her bag.

Even Brennan has got a Santa hat.

We walk back towards the conference room and chat about the case we're finshed up. I give her a deadline of no more work talk once she crosses the threshold.

She just laughs.

Temperance Brennan is just the same person she ever was, only now she's got a lot more to be happy about, and for the first time, that's outweighing the weight of her past.

It's funny to watch them together, she lights up when she spots him and his aura of tough-guy FBI agent just falls away. The both seem to soften and relax as their hands met.

And yes, they are _still_ in the hand-holding phase. I have a sneaking suspicion they are never going to grow out of it.

The room smells of red wine, cinnamon and cloves; and Jack seems to be dispensing the mulled wine pretty freely.

I take a cup and warm my hands around it, wondering if I should rescue Zach who'd been cornered by a rather scary arhivist in a long red dress, who has been pursuing him for months. Not that he's noticed.

I feel Jack's arms go around me and his hands link up in front of me, his chin resting on my shoulder.

He presses a quick kiss into my neck before asking me if I know what Booth is planning to give Temperance for Christmas.

I shrug.

He 'ho hums' non-commitally, telling me to forget about it.

My eyes narrow and I try to turn to face him – Dr Hodgins knows more than he's letting on, but it's best blank face forward.

He knows nothing. Apparently.

I glance back over at our two friends.

Wondering what surprise Bren has awaiting her in two days time.


	3. Christmas Day Booth's pov

Disclaimer - bones and all its lovely character belong to someone else

A/N - Yet more festive fluffiness. This time it's the main man...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(Booth's pov)

I survey the sea of wrapping paper that the front room has turned into, holding out a mug to Temperance.

She accepts it without really looking away from the brightly coloured puzzle that she and Parker have been playing for the last half hour. Being beaten three times by a seven year old is bringing out her competitive spirit.

I make a desultory attempt to clear a space on the couch amongst yet more of Parker's things and the scarf Zach bought his boss.

Then I look down at the piles of paper.

I'd never figured Bones as a ripper, but there was a paper shredding frenzy with her and my son both trying to get at the contents of all their beautifully wrapped gifts.

I suppose if I'd missed out on years of Christmas' I'd be eager to see what all the shiny gift wrap hid.

I can feel myself smile as I recall the look on her face when she pulled out the necklace I bought her. Beautiful, ancient glass beads in an elaborate silver setting. It was one of those things you see in a shop and you can almost hear it speaking to you, telling you that it's the perfect gift.

She even liked the additions to her Pop Culture 101 collection - it was classic movies this time.

I'm still amazed at the gift she gave me - the shell of a battered '69 Camaro. I'm going to be busy fixing that beauty up for years.

I wonder if she's going to regret giving me a whole new project to lose myself in?

I doubt it; it'll give me something to keep me occupied when she's writing.

Parker's triumphant yell disturbs my train of thought, and tells me that he's won another round.

I glance over to see him pat Temperance on the hand and tell her that maybe she should practice with me for a bit.

She admits defeat with good grace and comes to join me on the couch, dropping into my lap with a little sigh.

I wrap my arms around her and nuzzle into her neck. I can smell the spicy, ginger perfume I bought her for her birthday. The scent always reminds me of a long weekend away in a cabin in Maine. Definitely good times.

Temperance's fingers are roaming across my neck and through my hair, and damn, does it feel good.

After a few moments of luxuriating in her attention, I catch her eye and look over at Parker who's struggle to prise an action figure out of its box.

She smiles and kisses my forehead, before standing up to let me get up.

We've got all day together, but Parker's heading over to his Mother's later on.

We had our big celebratory meal last night, which according to Bones, is the tradition in many European countries.

She's still a walking encyclopaedia of useless knowledge!

I'd say that that the meal last night means no turkey today, but that'd be a lie. There is plenty left.

But that's not what we're going to be eating.

Although Temperance doesn't know that.

I've got a little surprise in store.

I can feel my heart start to pound as I think about it and I decide that helping Parker release his action figure from its shrink wrapped prison might distract me for a moment.

It works – for a while.

Before long Parker has me running round in circles playing make-believe. _ I can't be the only parent who shells out hundreds of dollars on toys, only to find himself playing with the box that something came in can I?_

Temperance and I are dropping Parker off at Rebecca's place today and before long we're all wrapping up against the elements and trying to pack up all of Parker's things.

He's leaving most of it with us, as he spends a lot more time with me now, but there's still a list of things he can't bear to be without for the two days he's going to be at his Mom's.

Temperance demonstrates another of her unexpected skills by knowing exactly where everything is, even if its buried under a foot of paper - although Parker sometimes has to describe the missing item as the name leaves her looking a little blank.

Finally we're all set and ready to head across town.

As we get to the threshold, Parker suddenly grabs my hand and then Temperance's, looking up at us with brimming eyes. He doesn't want to go.

For the first time this Christmas, Temperance looks upset - and like she's about to back away.

But once again, she surprises me and kneels down at Parker's level telling him how much his Mom is looking forward to seeing him and how she's going to practice that game until he gets back.

She gets a tremulous smile from him; and a silent standing ovation from me.

I lift Parker into my arms and hug him tightly, telling him how much we all love him.

The tears are slowly forgotten and we're on our way.

We accept Rebecca's offer of coffee. It's good for Parker to see us able to conduct a civilised conversation and the truth is that things are a lot less tense these days.

I guess we're both over the each other and as I glance between the two of them, I can't begin to imagine why I thought I could ever be with Rebecca long term. I don't regret our time together, it brought us Parker after all, but it also means I recognise the real thing now that I have it.

As we get back in the car, I take a deep breath and casually suggest a little walk.

Temperance says yes, mercifully, and in an oh so casual, spur of the moment kind of way I drive towards the Botanical Gardens.

As I park, Temperance looks at me in confusion, reminding me that the place will be closed.

I shrug, casually, and mention that I'd heard it was open.

She looks unconvinced but gets out, wrapping a long red shawl around her.

I have to resist the temptation to do it then and there she looks so impossibly beautiful.

We walk to the gate and it's open. Temperance looks surprised, but wraps her arm around my waist placing my arm around her shoulders.

We wonder the paths apparently aimlessly. Taking in the frosted lawns and ghostly, iced silhouettes of all the trees.

After a while, we reach the biggest glass house, a masterpiece of towering iron work, full of tropical splendour.

I try the door, while Temperance looks dubious.

It opens and I notice the heart drawn into the frost on the glass.

I so owe the bug and slime guy.

There's a double set of doors to keep out the cold, but were soon stood in wonderful, tropical warmth.

I push back the leafy fronds and head towards the centre. Temperance follows, clasping my hand and looking all around her.

I know she loves the tropics and has done a lot of fieldwork in jungle areas.

This was the best I could do in Washington.

I can see it before she does, but a moment later she gasps at the beautifully laid up table standing on a ledge overlooking a cascading waterfall. Orchids twine in the branches above the candles.

She looks across at me, eyes wide and lips parted. Completely surprised.

I smile slowly and reach into my pocket before drawing her towards me, my eyes caught in the blue-green cage of her gaze.

I had planned to wait until after we'd eaten.

I'd thought I might need to be fortified with champagne.

But one look in those eyes and it's all I can do not to shout it out.

I slowly sink onto one knee and I see comprehension dawn.

The hand I'm holding tightens convulsively and I can feel her tremble as I hold out the ring in my other hand.

And then I'm saying it. Words I've rehearsed a thousand times over. I'd thought of every combination and compliment you can imagine but in the end it comes down to this: _Temperance Brennan I love you. I can't imagine life without you, marry me, please._

And now I'm the one shaking. Waiting.


	4. The answer Jack's pov

**Disclaimer** -Bones and all its lovely character belong to someone else

**A/N** - A final, brief instalment of festive fluffiness. Over to Dr Hodgins...

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

(Jack's pov)

I manage to clap my hand across Ange's mouth before she squeals.

Booth would never forgive us if we interrupted his big moment.

And he's got a gun.

And he's not afraid to use it.

I feel Angela clench her jaw and bite her lip under my hand. I take that to mean she's going to be quiet. I'm about to lower the hand when I realise that Booth is sinking down onto one knee.

Maybe I better wait.

You might be wondering why we're lurking around in the shrubbery watching what should be a very private moment.

I could say that Angela is one of the nosiest people in the world and has made getting the estimable Dr Brennan and her partner together her pet project.

It would be true, but that's not why we're here.

I could say that when Booth asked me to arrange access the botanical gardens and set up a table, I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen.

That would also be true, but that's still not why we're hiding behind a bush.

The truth is we were supposed to exit stage left in precisely five minutes, with Booth and Brennan turning up in about quarter of an hour with the place all to themselves.

But they were early.

I guess he just wanted to get on with it. They almost caught us in mid-napkin twirl, but I heard the door open and we rapidly scuttled off.

So now we're peeking through a huge rubber plant as Special Agent Seeley Booth kneels before the women he loves.

I can officially state that this is the most terrified I've seen him look - and I've seen him in some pretty intense situations.

And Brennan?

Well for the first time, I can almost see that razor sharp mind slowing right down. Behind that wide eyed gaze I can hear the cogs slowly turn:_ Table. Booth. Kneeling. Ring. Love. Marriage. _

There's a pause and then the final cog clicks into place.

_Yes_. _I love you._

And with that they are in each other's arms, blinking away a few stray tears, touching each other's face reverently.

And that really is our cue to exit.

I thought that I might have had to drag Angela out of there, but she's actually tugging me towards the backdoor. When I ask her why, she tells me she needs to be somewhere where she can answer her phone when Brennan calls.

As I look at her, I think I can hear another set of cogs slowly turning.

It's a prospect that warms me, rather than scares me - although I've got to wonder, how am I going to top that?

(The end)


End file.
